


New Year

by reddiegays



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adult Losers Club (IT), Domestic Fluff, Drunken Flirting, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Intricate Rituals, M/M, Mentions of Sex, New Year's Kiss, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Stanley Uris is done, and eddie's missed him like crazy, basically richie's been on tour and they get together for new year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:49:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21909235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddiegays/pseuds/reddiegays
Summary: Three months after Derry, the Losers reunite for New Year and Richie and Eddie can barely wait until midnight...
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris, Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak
Comments: 6
Kudos: 177





	New Year

It was official. The Losers Club New Year Party was happening and The Uris’ were the lucky hosts. It would be the first time all of them were going to be together since the whole mess in Derry. They’d all been so busy - Bill and Mike had set off on their road trip to Florida, the author finishing his new book in the process. Ben and Beverly had travelled the world, getting engaged along the way. Eddie had been dealing with lawyers and courts handling his divorce. Stan had made a mini-Stan. And Richie had written his very first sell-out comedy tour. They’d all agreed to fly out to Georgia to see in the New Year as a group.

Ben and Beverly were the first to arrive, the fashion designer sporting a beautiful engagement ring. They shared details of their travelling adventures and romantic proposal, the girls giggling over their orange juices. Eddie was next to turn up. He looked exhausted and his wedding ring was gone but other than that, he looked better. Happier. Stan couldn’t help but notice how his eyes scanned the room discreetly.

“He’s not here yet,” Stan said with a smirk, handing Eddie a glass of red wine. The risk analyst blushed, sipping the wine gratefully.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Bill and Mike were next to show up, shyly holding hands. Stan and Eddie grinned knowingly, Beverly hugged them and Ben smiled approvingly. Patty mumbled a quiet ‘five down, two to go’ to her husband, nodding at Eddie; Stan sighed, knowing he was in for a long night. He hated dealing with Richie and Eddie at the best of times but a Richie and Eddie that hadn’t seen in each other in months? Unbearable. Eddie was already preening himself, glancing at the door every now and then. He was finally put out of his misery almost an hour later when Richie arrived; he looked tired from the intense tour and flight, otherwise he looked better than ever. He dramatically threw his arms out, leaning against the door.

“I will literally suck the dick of the first person to get me a drink.”

Stan reluctantly stepped forward, handing Richie a vodka and coke, “come anywhere near my pants and I’ll dropkick you into the sun, Tozier.”

“And I thought you loved me, Stanny.”

They embraced with a laugh, and the other Losers hurried over; they each greeted Richie, congratulating him on successful tour. The others pretended not to notice how Richie and Eddie’s hug lingered slightly longer than the others had, the eye contact making all of them uncomfortable. Soon after, Eddie excused himself to get another drink, Mike and Ben joining him. Richie downed his vodka and coke, turning to Patty with a grin.

“So, Pats, how’s my little godchild doing?”

Patty chuckled, cradling her bump, “keeping me up awake as usual but other than that, good as gold.”

“Good kid, Richie Jr.,” the comedian winked at Patty, who rolled her eyes and giggled. Stan was much less impressed.

“We’re not naming our child after you, Richie.”

“You break my heart, Stanley.”

Stan rolled his eyes, sipping his water; he was effectively teetotal to support Patty through her pregnancy, “look instead of wasting your time with us peasants, why don’t you go talk to Eddie? We know he’s the only reason you’re here,” he was joking, evident by his smirk but Richie still gasped in mock offence, pressing a hand to his heart; Stan just stared at him, adding in a deadpan tone, “just keep it in your pants until you get home, yeah?”

Richie winked, clapping Stan on the shoulder, “and that's why you’re my favourite, Staniel.”

He briefly caught up with the other Losers on his way to find Eddie, congratulating Ben and Bev on their engagement, Bill and Mike on their relationship and the former’s book. He eventually found Eddie alone in the kitchen having refilled his glass of wine, a luxury he hadn’t been allowed to indulge in whilst married. Richie’s heart fluttered as he remembered that Eddie was no longer married. Or straight. He’d bravely come out to all of them over dinner the night before Richie was going on tour; they’d each hugged him and told him how proud they were of him. He was measuring a precise quantity of wine into his glass, holding up to his eye level to examine. Richie was so stupidly gone for him he just stared, a goofy fucking smile on his face.

“Are you just going to stand there drooling all night, asshole?”

Richie shook his head, immediately falling back into their old routine; he suavely leaned against the door, smoothing his hair back from his forehead, “I can’t help it, Eds. You’re a sight for sore eyes. The hottest guy I’ve seen in three months had his front teeth missing and called me ‘Sparky’.”

“Shut up, idiot.”

No matter how Eddie tried to hide it, Richie still noticed his blush. Great, he was going to fucking die before he could even get started. He stumbled over to the table, reaching for as many bottles of alcohol as he could, mixing them all in one glass; he was going to fucking need it.

“You missed me, Eds. You know you did.”

Eddie watched him sip the disgusting green liquid with a horrified look on his face, “yeah, don’t fucking ask me why, though.”

“Eds, baby, you break my heart,” Richie proclaimed dramatically in one of his stupid voices which never failed to make Eddie laugh, this time being no exception. 

Richie held his glass across the table, meeting Eddie’s with a clink. They both drank silently for a moment, listening to the faint music coming from the lounge; Richie wanted to say how much he’d missed Eddie, how much he loved him and had loved him for nearly thirty years, even when they couldn’t remember each other. It’s always been Eddie. Eddie himself wanted to express how he’d come to term with his feelings for Richie, accepting that they weren’t as platonic as he’d kept insisting they were. He wanted to ask him out on a date. Richie snapped him out of his thoughts by suddenly smacking the table.

“I almost forgot. I got you a little something I picked up in Chicago,” he rummaged in his inside jacket pocket, pulling out a neatly folded t-shirt and handing it to Eddie. The risk analyst unfolded the black material with the words _Orgasm Donor_ emblazoned across it in huge white writing, “I saw it and thought of you.”

“Thanks, Rich,” Eddie deadpanned, refusing to admit he actually quite liked the present. Not that he’d ever wear it. The stupid asshole still looked smug, practically leaning over the table into Eddie’s space, “I’ll think of you every time I do the dishes.”

Richie grinned, the vague promise to someone about keeping something in his pants growing ever more faint in his mind. They joined the other Losers in the lounge shortly after, spending time dancing, drinking and chatting as midnight drew ever closer. It was fine for the others, Ben and Beverly had each other, Bill and Mike were together now, Stan and Patty were obviously going to kiss at midnight - Richie and Eddie were the only single members of their group. They’d both be lying if they said they didn’t want to, not that the other knew about it. However, probably due to the amount he’d been drinking, Richie slung his arm around Eddie’s shoulder and pulled him close, smirking.

“So, who’s the poor unfortunate bastard you’re gonna be slobbering on when the ball drops, then, Spaghetti?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, also more than a little tipsy, “well, you, you stupid shit. I don’t have much option, do I? Unless, like, Ben’s willing to be passed around like a fucking- thing that gets passed around.”

Ben, possibly the most sober one in the group - besides their currently highly amused hosts - looked between his pissed friends and blushed; why did every group get together have to end with those two trying to fuck him, “sorry, guys. I’m strictly a one woman man.”

“In that case, how drunk do I have to get you for you to fuck me, Eduardo?” Richie said, nudging Eddie’s arm suggestively. Eddie chuckled, chugging the rest of his remaining drink.

“There isn’t enough drink in the world, Rich.”

The Losers fell about laughing, even Richie whose arm around Eddie’s shoulder tightened its grip. He was lying, of course. He was just one horny smile or shitty joke away from taking off his underwear and using it as a lasso. Richie’s arm stayed around his shoulder as they all gathered around the sofa in Stan and Patty’s lounge, waiting for the countdown to start. Eddie glanced at Richie, wondering if he was as nervous as he was. For fuck’s sake, it was just a kiss between friends, what was he so worried about?

_One minute to go._

Ben and Beverly were wrapped around each other, Bill and Mike held hands, Stan was beside his wife, one hand protectively over their child. Eddie desperately wished he still had some alcohol in his glass.

_Thirty seconds._

The excitement of the crowd on the TV grew to fever pitch. Fireworks were already being set off around the Uris’ neighbourhood. Richie wanted to die. Was he actually going to kiss Eddie? Did he want him to? Had he been kidding? He gulped more of his strong drink, deciding to blame whatever happened on the drink. Fuck it.

_Ten seconds..._

Eddie’s fingers drummed impatiently against his glass, his fight or flight response battling each other. He wished he still had his old inhaler. Meanwhile, Richie was wishing he was a lot more drunk than he currently was. He wanted to throw up, if he was being honest, but thought he’d better not. Not when he was seconds away from possibly kissing the love of his life. God, he was such a bitch.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Ben and Beverly were full on making out. Bill and Mike had broken their embrace and were resting their foreheads together, whispering sweet nothings. Stan and Patty were lost in each other's eyes, the former kissing the latter’s nose sweetly. But neither Richie or Eddie were paying them any attention; they’d mutually decided at the last second to fucking go for it, consequences be damned. Eddie was slightly quicker, catching the corner of Richie’s mouth in a brief peck. He pulled away just as quickly, blushing profusely.

“Thanks, Rich,” was all he could think to say. It was dumb but his lips were tingling and he thought he was going to pass out. He felt fucking thirteen years old again. Richie pushed his glasses up his nose, raising an eyebrow.

“What the fuck was that? You call that a kiss, bro?”

Stan, who had been within earshot, knew better than to stick around; he pulled Patty away, mumbling something about checking the food. Eddie’s mouth fell open and he jabbed Richie in the chest with his finger.

“Fuck you! You think I enjoyed that?” He made a noise of protest, hoping it wasn’t obvious he was lying, “you felt like a fucking frog, dude.”

Richie chuckled, folding his arms, “yeah, well, you ain’t much better.”

Eddie scowled, glancing around the room quickly; they were mostly alone - the others had disappeared to either refill their drinks or get away from the forthcoming Richie and Eddie bullshit. Not one to be outdone, Eddie slammed his glass on the coffee table and grabbed the front of Richie’s shirt, yanking him down into a proper kiss. Their lips met ferociously and Eddie didn’t stop there, winding his hands into Richie’s hair and pulling. The comedian responded with an enthusiastic moan, stroking Eddie’s face with his large hands. Eddie pulled away, still holding Richie’s shirt as he glared at him.

“You taste like a fucking sewer rat, man.”

Richie was panting, swallowing urgently as looked into Eddie’s beautiful eyes, “and you taste like your Mom, dude.”

Eddie kissed him again. He probably shouldn’t have done. Why did Richie always bring up his Mom at the worst possible moments? Right after they’d finished making out? What kind of fucking idiot was he? Well, since Eddie was trying to climb him and eat his fucking face off, he wasn’t entirely blameless. Maybe he was a fucking idiot, too. He made a show of wiping his mouth dramatically when they pulled away. Richie just smiled, looking fucked out already.

“Bet you can’t suck dick that good.”

“Shut up, Richie.”

The gathering quietened down soon after, most of the group tired from the long journey to Georgia. Ben and Beverly were first to leave, promising to meet everyone for breakfast before their flight home. Mike was saying his goodbyes to Stan and Patty as Bill turned to Richie and Eddie, who were thumb-wrestling for the last piece of lemon meringue pie.

“We’re heading off now. You guys wanna share a cab back to the hotel?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Eddie said gleefully, having taken advantage of Richie’s distraction to win and snatch the pie. He was trying to scarf down the delicious treat whilst simultaneously keep Richie from taking it from him, one hand pressed to his face pushing him away. Bill just stared unfazed as Eddie continued, lemon pie all over his face, “I’m gonna go for a walk.”

“At 2am?” Eddie nodded innocently, still eating the pie. Bill shrugged, pulling on his coat as he looked at Richie, “Rich?”

“No, thanks, Billy...” Richie slurred, pouting at the plate that formerly contained the pie. He glanced at Eddie, gawping at the way he licked the filling from his fingers, “uh, going somewhere. The store. Gotta get some stuff.”

Bill just stared unimpressed, looking between them. They were both drunk and trying not to giggle, nudging and shushing each other. Great. They were behaving like fucking teenagers again. Bill resisted the urge to rub his temple but couldn’t help but smirk, glad they’d finally came to their senses.

“We’re not going to have sex if that’s what you’re thinking!” Eddie snapped indignantly and Richie nodded once in agreement although he didn’t look altogether convinced. Neither was Bill.

“I wasn’t.”

“Good.”

“But I am now,” the author said with a smirk, bidding them goodnight with a quick wave. He could hear more giggling and shushing as he left them to it, hoping for Stan’s sake they managed to get to a hotel room first.

“Are they coming?” Mike asked, holding Bill’s hand as they walked out to meet the taxi. Bill shuddered.

“Probably but I don’t want to stick around to find out.”

Mike didn’t ask what that meant.


End file.
